Crush
by Fate's Apprentice
Summary: : a burning desire to be with someone you find attractive and special. Love: A deep, tender, pure feeling of affection and adoration toward a person, that cannot be replaced and knows no equal. Do you know the difference? Hilson! Happy Valentine's Day!


* This take's place just a little after Tritter. The ages are probably most definitely off so don't leave me a review nitpicking that, I know, but this is my damn story and I can do whatever I feel like doing.

Also, at this point in the series, it's still unclear to House's sexuality, so I'm rolling with that and got this caffeinated, insomnia induced, cute little one-shot.

**Unbeta'd.**

Disclaimer: I don't own them, and I'm sorry to say that they don't own each other either.

Happy Reading!

**Warnings: Language, adult themes, sexual implications and references (****There is a semi sex scene but it doesn't go into explicitness so I think it still falls under T. Correct me if I'm wrong though and I'll move it.)**

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><p><em><strong>Crush<strong>_

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><p><strong>Crush<strong>:a burning desire to be with someone who you find very attractive and extremely special.

**Love**: A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, something that cannot be replaced and knows no equal.

Do you know the difference?

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><p>"Admit it."<p>

"Make me."

"Oh, believe me, I'm thinking about it."

"Oh? And how would you go about that?"

Wilson smirks.

He doesn't really know why House is denying it. Wilson had been watching the elder for a few weeks now. It was obvious. Obvious in the way that only Wilson could see, after all he had been the man's best friend for sixteen long years. The way House was suddenly very dreamy, around less often, and slightly more irritable. Then there was also the fact that when Wilson had walked into House's office and coughed to get his attention, House had practically fallen out of his chair, his normally pale cheeks colored a cherry red and normally ever-so-stoic face looking quite mortified.

Yeah, in all honesty, that was the thing that made all the pieces of the puzzle that was House's recent behavior snap into place.

"Oh, come on House! _You've_ got a **crush**." Wilson teases.

House looks up, and to Wilson's amusement, looks slightly embarrassed and wanting to sprint from the room as fast as his gimp leg would carry him. Wilson smirks as House stutters and tries to deny it. All in all, the situation is so unlike House that it's laughable. _House is flustered_. In the entire time he's known House, he's only seen House act flustered twice. Both when he had his eye on some pretty girl.

"Just admit it, House."

"As much as it pains me to inform you, Wilson. I am not a fourteen year old girl pining after some poor football player. 'Oh, look isn't he so _DREAMY_!'." House lets his voice squeak up high into the soprano octave and does some waving of his hands. Then he stops and looks Wilson dead in the eye. "I do not have a _crush_."

Wilson shrugs, completely deadpan, "Then you're in love."

House again pretty much falls out of his office chair, his feet formally resting casually on his desk and crossed, are now barely keeping him stable as the elder pathetically attempts to argue away the younger's conclusion or distract him or both.

It's hysterical to see House like this. He almost feels bad for exploiting it, but since it happens so rarely his conscious rest slightly easier with him promising it he's only getting back at House for all the horrible things House has done to him recently. He smiles deviously and listens to House's half-assed arguments. Anyone who didn't know House, wouldn't know of him capable of this. Being embarrassed, or actually liking another human being romantically. Especially since everyone knows House is a misanthrope. House barely tolerates members of the human species. And it's fairly impossible to get past those barriers that House has ever so carefully built up. Stacy did, and _look_ where it got him. She made him trust even less, and Wilson **hated** her for it.

Wilson had always been the only one who House let glimpse in and out. Well, to be fair, House didn't really let him. Wilson ever so carefully slips past wall after wall, getting through to House as often as he didn't. But, Wilson was actually proud to say, he was the only one House trusted at _all_. So, he had to admit, it was fun seeing House like this: acting human for once. He looks embarrassed, mortified, and a little fearful. Imagine that, House acting Human. House liking someone. No, House being in love with someone.

"No, you were right. I have a _crush_." he says in a mocking tone.

Wilson rolls his eyes but nevertheless, believes his friend. House being in love was a long shot. House merely had a little crush. Wilson couldn't help the slight flare of jealousy, but swallowed it down.

House smirks, "Do you even know what a crush _is_, Wilson?"

Wilson starts to babble an answer, stuttering and blushing. House smirks, "Face it, neither one of us has any idea what a crush is… You have full blown relationships and marriages… I have…whatever I had with Stacy. And I **do not **have a crush." he repeats, seeing the glitter in Wilson's eye. House doesn't like the look of it.

Wilson rolls his eyes at the elder, "House, quit denying it. I know you too well. Now tell me who it is. Do I know her?"

House blanches at this and wont meet Wilson's searching gaze. Wilson shifts in his precarious position, sitting on the corner of House's desk, no more then a few precious inches from the other. Wilson looks significantly curious at House's reaction. _House looks almost guilty,_ he thinks to himself.

"Oh, come on, House. It's _**just a crush***_. Not the end of the world." Wilson chuckles

House raises an eyebrow, inwardly commenting to himself on the '_just a crush_' comment but outwardly, the elder rolls his eyes. "Even if I did happen to have one, I certainly wouldn't tell you who they were."

Wilson blinks and a look of slight surprised come over him. And for a brief moment, hope flits across his curious gaze. It's gone as quickly as it comes, slipping behind Wilson's own carefully built walls.

"'_They'_." he says slowly, softly.

House's gaze immediately locks with his friend's, "What?"

"You said 'they', not 'her'." Wilson points out in a cautious tone.

House deadpans for a brief moment, his eyes darkening, "Got a _problem_ with that, Jimmy?"

Wilson jumps, looking significantly startled. "No. No." he assures, "I just didn't know you swung _that_ way. You never _said_ anything-" he starts to ramble before House cuts him off.

"You never asked."

"Oh, pardon me. You never _established _it."

"Again," his eyes take on a cautious hooded look, "Got a **problem** with it?"

Wilson shakes his head, "House you're my best friend. I'm not gonna leave just 'cuz your gay."

"Bi."

"What?"

"I'm bi, Wilson. Not gay, thank you." he chuckles.

"Oh…" is all the younger replies. It's silent for a few uncomfortable minutes.

"So, what's his name?" he asks with a smirk and a raised eyebrow

And then they're both laughing. It feels like a forever since they've laughed because the whole Tritter thing that happened a little over a week ago. It's a return to normalcy and Wilson revels in it. He misses this, and if it takes Wilson blurting out questions for it to return to the way it had been, then Wilson was willing to ask as many sudden questions as necessary.

It was only funny since Wilson had gone from being apprehensive to completely cool and willing to play _'Stupid Cupid'_ ( House snickers silently to himself at that) in a matter of seconds. House was glad, since he didn't want his friendship with Wilson to disappear in a huff of smoke because he liked _guys_ too.

They both laugh quietly till they're struggling for breath and grinning at each other. House rolls his eyes, "I'd rather you not meddling in my love life, so I think I'll keep that bit of info to myself, thank you."

Wilson frowns in a mock pout, which send them both into laughter again. "Oh, come on, House. I wont get involved!" Wilson promises out of breath in between rounds of laughter.

The door opens before House can reply and Chase mentions something about a test coming up clean. House's attention shifts briefly, looking mildly baffled before muttering, "Involved." in a thoughtful tone of voice and and then getting **that** look in his eyes. The one he gets when he has an epiphany.

He hops up, grabbing his cane and is out the door without a word. Chase follows and Wilson's just about to leave when House turns and comes back. He opens the door just a bit, since Wilson in just in front of him. They lock eyes briefly before House says in such a soft voice that Wilson has to strain to hear it. He says it so thick with emotion that the words go strait to Wilson's core and send an apprehensive shiver up his spine:

_"**You're already involved."**_

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><p>Wilson is pacing around House's apartment. It's no surprise he's here since he was kicked out of his place again. He cant get those words out of his head, they buzz around, refusing to give him any peace. He hadn't gotten any work done since House had spoken them.<p>

**"_You're already involved."_**

What the hell did that mean?

House's tone of voice and expression had meant just as much as the words. His voice had been so thready and thick with emotion and his eyes so solemn. They were set with a look of… oh, he didn't know... was it surrender? If so, then what was House giving up on. Was he giving up on keeping who it was he liked a secret or something else entirely? And then there was another thought...

One he so desperately clung to but knew was an unrealistic hope: What if it meant that Wilson was involved because it **was** _him_? House, had a crush on, _him_. Seriously? Maybe? Oh... he didn't know. It was pointless to torture himself with the unrealistic possibility. Even though House was bi, that certainly didn't mean that Wilson had a shot in hell with his best friend…_right_?

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><p>House revved the engine of his bike at a stop light, impatient to get home. He had cured his patient, the one who had lied about getting involved with her Indian teacher, thus making Hepatitis A with a combination of Yellow Fever possible, <strong>and<strong> right. The girls parents had screamed at her and then called the cops since the girl was only seventeen and the teacher somewhere around twenty six. He had spent three hours in Cuddy's office with the parents and said teacher before they agreed to drop the charges since their daughter _had_ been the one to instigate it.

He was tired, irritable, and most definitely on edge. Plus, he knew his day was about to get much worse. Wilson was probably at home, pacing the length of the living room, going over the possible implications for what House had said. What had provoked House to say that, House would never know.

When he pulled up to the apartment building and climbed the stairs, he sensed a feeling of dread course through him. He didn't want to do this. Especially not after the hellish day he had had. And tomorrow would be no better since Cuddy had given him ten extra hours of clinic duty (since he was the one who had decided to tell the parents instead of keeping it underwraps), threatening not his job but **Wilson**'s it he didn't do them.

_Cuddy knew._

Yes, that's right. How she had found out, House would never know but the woman had, nevertheless, found out and was currently _vindictively_ using his feeling for Wilson against him. In the back of his mind a small voice told him Cuddy would never fire Wilson, but she _could_ inform him that his best friend had stupidly fallen in love with him.

House groaned as he put his key in the door. Then again, that might not be necessary if Wilson had figure out House's meaning in his impulsive three word sentence. He's slightly glad he hadn't had the impulse to say the _other_ three word sentence.

"Okay, here we go." he groaned in frustration as he pushed open the door.

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><p>Turns out, House had nothing to worry about. The younger man, of who's reaction he dreaded, was asleep on the couch when he got in. House dropped his bag tiredly by the door and threw his jacket in the vicinity of the arm chair. He cautiously walked over to the brunet before sighing in relief to see him lying down with his large brown eyes shut.<p>

House took a quiet moment to appreciate the sweet look of peace sleep had graced the young oncologist. The thirty-five-year-old's face is free of stress and looks positively serene. The forty-two-old cant help himself. He leans down and tenderly brushes a stray lock of hair off his face. Wilson stirs quietly, and House freezes until his friend resumes his silent slumber.

He awkwardly limps down the hall way while absentmindedly rubbing his ruined thigh. He returns with a blanket. He rests his cane on the side of the couch while he lays the blanket across his friend. He starts to make it look hazardously thrown on him, before stopping and on impulse tucks the younger in with a tenderness he rarely shows.

He bites his lip and grabs his cane. The gruff doctor starts down the hall before stopping abruptly and, again impulsively, returns to his friend. He contemplates it for a few moments, before deciding the opportunity had presented itself and he wasn't strong enough to resist. He cautiously leans down and brushes his chapped lips, just barely, across the younger mans mouth, almost groaning from the feeling of finally being able to do so.

"House?"

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><p>Wilson's sleepy mutter causes House to freeze and then hurriedly draw back. His startlingly blue eyes catch the confused glance of sleep-glazed brown ones before the older flees, surprisingly quick for a cripple, to the sanctuary that is his bedroom. He curses himself as he closes the door behind him, hurriedly shutting off the lights and scurrying under his covers. He feigns sleep and turns over lying on his side facing the door just as it opens and a sleepy and confused Wilson wanders in with the blanket House had tucked him in with draped tightly over his shoulders.<p>

The younger is clad in only his boxers and the teal blanket wrapped hazardously around his shoulders. He walks over to the bed and stares at House's limp form, already noticing that the elder's breath was much too calculated, face much too fake, and body much too tight for the doctor to _actually_ be sleeping. Biting his lip, the younger sighs, "I know your not asleep, House."

House doesn't say a word and Wilson impatiently shakes his friend earning a _fake_-sleepy mutter of "Go away."

Wilson sighs again and sits cross-legged on the floor next to his friend's bed. He rests his chin on the mattress and stares at his friend's face. House finally groans (feeling the young oncologis gaze boring into him) and opens one eye and, seeing Wilson, he curses audibly.

"What do you want, Jimmy?" he steels himself for the worse.

"You have a crush on me." Wilson murmurs, quietly, simply.

House groans loudly in frustration before turning to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth as he thinks of all the possible ways this conversation could go. He peeks sideways toward the object of his affections. Wilson is watching him patiently, waiting on some sort of reply. Or some sort of answer. An answer House doesn't and wont ever have.

The elder opts for sarcasm, "No, I have a crush on _Chase_." he sneers and cant help but chuckle at the thought.

"House." sighs Wilson, tiredly.

House doesn't reply, he continues to stare at the ceiling just as his friend continues to stare at him. It's absolutely silent, save the two's calculated breathing. House doesn't want to have this conversation now. Actually, honestly, he never wants to have it. He'd rather settle for never-enough and _keeping_ his friend then have the younger walk away like he _should have_ years ago.

"Maybe I don't have a crush on you, maybe I'm _in love _with you." House whispers ever-so-softly, steeling himself for the worse.

That silences Wilson and House waits for the world to end.

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><p>After a small eternity, he catches Wilson glance toward House's alarms clock out of the corner his eye. House glances toward it as well. <em>12:06 am<em>

"It's Valentine's Day." observes Wilson quietly.

House nods shortly as he locks his jaw, unconsciously grinding his teeth. _Why was he doing this to him? Did he hate him that much? _He sighs in relief when he hears the oncologist struggle to his feet. _Good, he's smart. He's leaving. _House briefly wonder's if Wilson was **leaving**. Like, actually walking away and never coming back. He wouldn't blame Wilson if he did, but he cant help the heavy ache in his chest at the thought of never seeing the oncologist again.

His worry is short lived, as is his relief and hope of reprieve, when Wilson walks around the bed and appears on the other side of it. House looks across the expanse of empty mattress to his immediate left at his best friend. The younger has lost all trace of sleepiness to him, but his hair is tousled and cheeks adorably flushed. House's eyes wander over him. He take's his time studying the younger man since he fears it might be the last time he sees him.

The soft brown messy hair that falls across his forehead sloppily. Those soft brown eyes, normally ever-so kind, but now emotionless. Those soft pouty lips that he's had the pleasure of knowing against his own, even if it was but once. The soft flush along his cheeks and adorable dribble of freckles that dance along the tops of his cheeks and across his nose, faint as they are, they're there. Then the sweet column that is his neck, meeting at a perfect juncture (where House desperately wants to kiss and know the sound of Wilson moaning at the contact) and the cream colored skin the spreads across his shoulders and down his chest. He has just a little bit of chest hair, looking extraordinarily soft and House briefly wonders if it's as soft as it looks. Then the soft outline of abs and slight rounding of his stomach. He glances down further at his dark blue boxers and gets to see a slim strip of skin beneath each short leg of the cloth.

Wilson throws his blue blanket carelessly across House's bed and the one other blanket. It _is_ cold so it's not unnecessary, but House's eyebrows furrow when Wilson clambers into his bed, impatiently tearing the blanket from House's grip and sliding under before turning on his side to look at House, precisely parallel to him.

"What are you doing?" asks House, incredulously.

Wilson props himself up on his blanket for a second, before leaning over and brushing House's lips with his own. House cant help but moan at the sensation, he can feel Wilson smile at the sound of it. The wonderful feeling of those soft lips against his own sends a sweet spike of adrenaline up his spine and House is immediately wide awake. Wilson licks his bottom lip slowly before pulling away. He watches House with a smirk.

House stares at the younger man incredulously, "What the hell was _that_?"

Wilson chuckles, good-naturedly, "**That** was a _kiss_, House. You should know that, since you just gave me one earlier."

House blinks a few times and struggles to express himself adequately, "Yes, I know _that_. B-but why?"

Wilson laughs, carelessly, "Well, that's typical to what your boyfriend might give you occasionally, especially since it _is_ Valentine's Day."

House's eyes widen considerably and he stutters incomprehensively for a moment before finally questioning, "Boyfriend?"

Wilson grins, wickedly, "Yes, that's normally what you call the man who is: A) occupying your bed with you and B) in love with you." he says it so nonchalantly and simply, as if he's talking about the weather.

"_In love with me_?" to House's chagrin it comes out as a squeak.

"Are you just going to repeat everything I say, 'Cuz if you are I'd rather you not speak at all." he giggles as he leans over and claims the older's lips as his.

House gasps in shock and the younger uses that to invade his mouth and taste every bit of the warm cavern, slipping his tongue against the other's. House groans appreciatively and loses himself in the pleasure that runs through him and makes him shiver. He kisses the other back with gusto, tongues battling for dominance until House wins it. He makes an appreciative noise before pulling away, abruptly.

"What's wrong?" the younger gasps, looking toward the other with surprise. House blinks a few times, desperately trying to order his thoughts before finally panting, "You- you- love me?"

Wilson smile's sweetly. He leans forward for a moment, letting their lips brush in a chaste kiss before nodding, "Yes. I love you."

And just like that,** every** _single_ one of House's carefully constructed walls crumble and House is left stunned and completely naked, but then again- the other's walls have been obliterated as well, gone the moment House had kissed him chastely goodnight before. They stare for a moment, the other laid bare before them. Then they both grin simultaneously and Wilson is kissing House again and they both are pulling desperately at each other. They kiss for a small eternity, desperate and loving, needy and sweet. It feels so good and the tension, so thick you **cant** cut it with a knife, dissipates. Leaving the two happy and relieved and finally having what they've wanted for **so damn long**.

They part again and, panting, House struggles desperately again to speak, "I...I" he stutters, his eyes not settling anywhere. Wilson doesn't give him the chance, he kisses the other hungrily again. When they part Wilson shakes his head, "You don't have to say it." he promises

House is temporarily speechless. But it doesn't last long without cause, for Wilson is soon on him again, and simultaneously scrambling onto the older's body. He straddles the House while they kiss tenderly. House's hands rush to Wilson's chest and push him away just a bit, he smiles up at the younger, "I know." another kiss and the two are rushing to get House's shirt over his head. The time away from the other is only seconds, but if feels like eons to them both. It's been building for so long that they need this and need it now.

Wilson laughs, bitterly as he tugs on House's belt, "You know, for someone who was _supposed_ to be sleeping, you've got a lot of clothes on." House shuts him up with another hungry kiss and Wilson feels his stomach flip flop. He impatiently rips at House's belt and it comes off after a few minute of struggling. He throws it across the room and it land with a dull thud somewhere that feels a universe away.

The two fumble with House's zipper as they exchange sloppy frantic kisses. "Too many clothes." Wilson groans as he pulls House's pants down to his ankles. House kicks them off and they slide down the side of the bed and hit the floor. House's hands are everywhere and Wilson's body hums with life and his skin feels as if it's on fire. House runs a hand down toward his nether regions and Wilson groans.

It's not long before those clothes are gone too and they're both naked and slick with need and desperation. They're gasping and moaning and it's a chorus of erotic sounds. They take their time with everything and yet it feels like it's all in slow motion and cant come fast enough. They're soft and loving and desperate and needy and it's a total oxymoron and contradiction and they cant understand it yet get it completely.

Wilson has never known a better feeling then House in him and House has never known one better then Wilson, _his _Jimmy, writhing beneath him, around him, desperate and gasping _his _name. Nothing has ever felt so good, or has sounded so wonderful. Somewhere, far away, he can here his father ranting about this being sick and twisted and unnatural and wrong and a thousand other words he can no longer comprehend because nothing has ever felt _so_ right. He grits his teeth and finds he no longer cares. For the first time in his life, he doesn't feel the need to try and appease his father. He can hate House for all he cares, as long as he has Jimmy, he's perfect.

So, when he feels his world start to spin and keel and roll off it's axis and- by the way Jimmy is gasping and squirming and calling his name with so many mixed emotions that run and stumble and collide with each other, things like love and lust and need and _sweet, sweet, desperation_- he's almost there too. House can't help but lean forward and lick the other's ear before running a warm hand down his boyfriend's lithe body and whispering a soft, heated, "I love you."

That's all it takes and Jimmy is thrown off the edge, screaming his name and Greg is just as far gone, their gasping and moaning and sweet voices mingle in the air as they call each other's names. Greg has never felt so good, so right. And Wilson has never before felt that kind of pleasure, so absolute, so complete. They both lay in a pile of intertwining limbs and somewhere in the back of his mind he feels Jimmy grab his hand and intertwine their fingers. Greg cant help but grin into the crook of his lovers neck and pull the younger tighter against him.

He has to say it again so Jimmy knows it just wasn't the fact that they were in the throes of passion that made him say it. He's tightening his grip on the younger and pulling him closer and it feels _so _good. He moans Jimmy's name absentmindedly and cant help the soft mewl that escapes him when the younger kisses his mouth so sweetly. He buries his face in his hair, "I love you. Jimmy, I love you so damn much. I love you. I love you. I love you."

Jimmy's head pops up and his eyes are glassy and sleepy and ecstatic and he's kissing him again and it feels so damn good. He moans into the kiss quietly and when they part he cant help but kiss his forehead and then his eyes and then his nose and then his lips, because god, does it feel so fucking good to be loved again.

Jimmy's grinning at him, "I know."

Greg's grinning back, "So... _**just a crush**_, eh?"

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><p><em>*Yay! That was awesome. I had to, couldn't resist! Happy Valentines Day!"<em>


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